Forbidden Love Main Forums Creations 18+ Content How I Met Your Father – The Dragonborn Diaries

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  • Kathy
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    Awesome again (clapping hands loudly) Bravo…Bravo


    Post count: 75

    Thanks so much Kathy! Your support really keeps me motivated to write 🙂

    Post count: 8

    No need to thank me…just telling the truth!

    Post count: 10

    You made my day(s) reading this DovaB 🙂  So entertaining and creative, TYTYTY Keep up the good work and looking forward to more! 🙂

    Post count: 75

    Its yo gurrl DovaBunny with a new chapter! This one is quite long, so apologies for that. Not much happening story-wise, but is more about capturing their love/hate dynamic. Next one is already underway and will be more fast-paced.

    Thanks so much to the lovelies who comment and reach out on chat to me! You’re the reason I keep writing 🙂




    Diana watched the night sky over Winterhold, lost in her memories, when a yawn creeped up on her. She rubbed her eyes, only then realising how tired she was, and finally returned to bed. She got under the covers and her icey skin brushed against Bishop’s hot skin.  She wiggled a bit and tried to warm herself, but it wasn’t working fast enough to her liking.

    “Bishop?” she whispered to the sleeping ranger, gentling rocking his shoulder.

    “Hmmmf..?” a voice responded, muffling in his pillow.

    “I’m cold.” He was barely awake, but could immediately feel her body shivering and skin like ice.

    Still half-asleep with eyes closed, the Ranger turned over and threw his body over her, tucking her under his chest with his arm and snaking a leg between hers. The heat of his body soon seeped into her skin, warming her. She could also already tell from how his breathing got heavier that he’d already drifted back to sleep.

    In this warm Bishop-cocoon she too soon started drifting off, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart against her. A year ago he would’ve just answered with ‘Well sucks to be you!’, but if there’s one thing that adventuring together for this long teaches you – it’s the value of give-and-take. She looked after his hide because he looked after hers because he knew she was looking after his. Not looking after the other’s needs could bite you in the ass when you need it, and they were both selfish- and honest enough with each other maintain this balance.

    With a satisfied smile like a kitten with a belly full of warm milk, she fell asleep in the ranger’s arms. She felt safe, warm, cared for.


    “Hey, Bishop!” Diana called to the Ranger a few paces ahead of her. They were just out of Whiterun headed for Ivarstead, and already she was insufferable. For a second he considered just knocking her over the head and leaving her body under a bush next to the road.

    “Diana, if this is another one of your lame jokes I swear to Hircine I’m-”

    “What did the doctor say when he found out about your bad hearing?”


    “I SAID: WHAT DID THE DOCTOR SAY WHEN HE FOUND OUT ABOUT YOUR BAD HEARING!” she burst out in laughter that she got him with that easy one. He just shook his head and mumbled curses and something about strangling with boot laces and throwing off the throat off the world.

    “Oh cheer up Bishi-poo! I’m just trying to make the road a little less boring.”

    “I’m trying real hard not to slap some sense into you right now… If you could let me focus on that, I’d hate to lose my concentration.” He growled back.

    “Hmf, and here I thought me sleeping with you would get you in better spirits…”

    Bishop spun around, eyes wide and brows furrowed, “We did NOT sleep together!” she looked at him blankly, waiting for him to correct himself, “I mean we did SLEEP together,” there it is, “But we didn’t sleep TOGETHER!”

    She laughed and brushed passed him continuing onwards, “Whatever you need to tell yourself sweetcakes, doesn’t change the fact that last night I let you into my bed, and you came willingly.” She turned at that last part and proclaimed it like a sonnet. She was really going to milk this. Yes, they did really just sleep, but where’s the fun in pretending that’s it?

    “Diana I’m serious! You can’t go around saying shit like that, people might hear you and news like that will travel fast.”

    “So what if they think I polish your spear every now and then? Fuck’em. Why do you care anyway, you scared your sweet love will find out?” this was her backdoor way of asking if he perhaps had a girlfriend or wife. Even though she doubted a woman could stand him that long, she was kinda curious who the letters were for.

    “Love? Hah! I don’t believe in that bearshit. Love is not real, it’s for people who are really horny or really desperate – and I’m neither.”

    “Oh really? So what of bards? They sing of love in every tavern across skyrim.”

    “Well that’s because they’re horny and desperate. Did you not hear me say that?” he said with a cheeky grin.

    “I don’t think I buy it Ranger.” She said hesitantly.

    “Why? You ever ‘been in love’?”

    “No. Or at least I think not. But what of the tales of great love? Like Ruki and Fenrig, or Elisif and Torygg, or Hrjomeo and Julianne?”

    “They were just people who convinced themselves they ‘loved’ the other because they longed to jump their bones, was jealous and wanted them to themselves, and really didn’t want to sleep alone at night anymore.”

    “….so horny and desperate.” She replied unimpressed.

    “Exactly ladyship! You’re catching on.” He said with a big grin. “No I don’t buy that bull…”

    “Then what do you believe in hmm?”


    “Trust…? How romantic.” She said with a blank face and low, dull voice, “Did the humidity just rise or was it just me? Oh baby oh baby, I better go jump in Lake Ilinalta to put put out the fire in my loins…”

    He laughed it off, “I mean it ladyship. Love is an emotion, and a bad unreliable one at that. Emotions are dependent on moodswings, external factors, and her time of the month.” She raised an eyebrow at him for that one, “Trust is different. It’s a solid foundation, and understanding that’s deeper than any emotion. Take Karnwyr, I trust him and he trusts me. I know if I need help he’ll give his life for me in a heartbeat. He trusts that I will give him my last scrap of food if it comes to it. We have a bond that cannot be broken. And real trust is rare, while ‘love’ can supposedly be found in any tavern across Tamriel.”

    “Wow…” she contemplated what he had said for a moment. “…Do you trust me?” she asked earnestly.

    “What? Oh Gods no!” the ranger laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. She wasn’t impressed.

    “Why not!? I’ve saved your life, fed you, seen you naked, slept with you…”

    “Doesn’t mean I trust you, princes. Besides, you don’t trust me either – not really.”

    “Yes, I do!” she said offended.

    “No, no you don’t. You’re just saying that cause I said I don’t trust you.” He was right though.

    “I do trust you!” She didn’t. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” She gave lots of fucks actually. “And I’m not just saying it because you didn’t!” She did. She sensed a challenge and couldn’t resist and had to commit.

    “Fine, then prove it.” Bishop turned to her sternly, “Sit down on this here rock, close your eyes and open your mouth.”

    What the-? She wanted to question it, but she had to pretend like she trusted him – right? Besides, if he did the worst case scenario in her head – she’ll just bite it clean off.

    “As my Ranger commands…” she said sweetly with a determined gaze. She sat down, knees together (like a lady!), and held her satchel neatly on her lap. She gave him a last glare before closing her eyes and opening her mouth. Pleasedon’tbeapenispleasedon’tbeapenispleasedon- She felt a sensation and weight on her tongue and bottom lip, of something sweet but solid that extended out her mouth. She felt Bishop’s finger under her chin nudge her mouth closed. Suspicious and hesitant, but determined as hell, she slowly bites down letting her senses figure out what’s going on.

    “A honeynut treat? Really?” she took pulled it out by the stick and frowned at the smug Ranger.

    “Hah! I have to hand it to ya sweetness, didn’t think you had it in you to trust me so blindly. For all you I know I could’ve-“

    “Yeah,” she lifts a finger to halt him, “yeah I know you could’ve given me your other honeynut treat, but you didn’t. And I trusted that you wouldn’t!” That’s a lie. She was literally praying to Mara for mercy before.

    “Woa, who said anything about my other honeynut treat! I would never do such a thing…”

    “Yeah you totally would.”

    “Yeah your probably right.” The two dorks gave eachother a knowing smile with mischief in their eyes.


    “Ah smell this one Bishop!” before the ranger could protest, Diana shoved a handful of red mountain flowers into his face.

    “Hfftp!?” He spit the petals out his mouth, “Gods woman! I’d like not to get assaulted by flowers if that’s okay with you!”

    “Oh calm down.” She said happily stuffing the flowers in her alchemist’s satchel. She’d swooped down every few feet to pick a whole array of wild flowers. Everything from lavender to dragon’s tongue, to thistle went to the satchel till it looked completely stuffed.

    Bishop looked at her amused. She rarely got this giddy over something that was not food, alcohol, or cute stable boys. It was quite entertaining watching her dart around him picking flowers like a little maiden. He looked ahead and saw one she hadn’t picked yet.

    “So I heard its good manners to give a girl flowers after you’ve bedded her, so – here princess.” He handed her a large purple and black flower with a grin. He expected a witty remark back, but looked up and saw a white-faced Diana standing frozen like she’d seen a ghost. “Diana?”

    ‘Bishop, that’s a deathbell. Deathbells need a habit high in magical energy and decaying human bodies. They don’t grow in this part of Skyrim, not unless…” she looked up ahead and saw small rise with stone pillars, an altar, a large stone in the middle, and a trail spiralling up to it. “Necromancers.”

    They had both only heard terrible tales of necromancers, powerful rogue mages who could summon armies of undead, but neither had encountered one before. Diana took the flower from him and stuffed it in her bulging satchel before taking up arms.

    He gestured for her to go one way and he’ll go the other, they’d surprise their foes at the top. She looked in the direction he pointed for her to go, but it was a steep climb up for her while he had the trail up. She glared at him tight-lipped, eyebrows furrowed and shook her head, gesturing that she’d go that way, and he can go the way he suggested for her. He shook his head angrily pointed harshly to her, then the way round he suggested, then to him, and his way round.

    The two stood there in a standoff, both refusing to do as the other told, steam just about rising from their crowns.

    Fuckit, Diana barked at herself, pulled out her sword and ran straight down the middle for the altar, climbing over and up on her way. Bishop muttered curses under his breath, something about killing so dead not even the necromancers could revive and stuffing a soul into a petty soul gem for being so goddamn ‘petty’, as he unsheathed his dagger and set out after her trying to catch up.

    The two arrived at the top with a roar, blades out, ready to go – only to have the wind taken out of their sails almost immediately. Their great ‘foes’ was just one old man, in a black dress, quietly reading to a skeleton while he ate a slice of cheese. The man’s startled face and the skeleton’s creepy blue glowing eyes snapped to Bishop and Diana as they froze with an expression like they just saw someone sprout another head. Bishop and Diana exchange glances, then look back at the two. The necromancer looks to the skeleton, then back at them. Well now, this is awkward.

    “Are we…interrupting?” Diana broke the silence stepping forward and lowering her weapon, asking quite sincerely. At this the skeleton broke into action and pulled out an ancient nord sword and charged swinging. Diana ducked the swing and bishop bashed his blade into the boney abomination. At the strike the skeleton collapsed and the bones scattered. Seeing his friend taken, the necromancer cries out and shoots a lightning bolt into Bishop. The Ranger gives an audible ‘oemf’ as it knocks his wind in his chest.

    Diana whips her hand out towards the man, sending a big bolt of fire his way. As the flames engulf him, she takes advantage of the distraction and takes her blade to his neck. With a squirt and a plomp, the necromancer’s head drops off and rolls down, at the side she should’ve climbed up.

    “Wow, that was…not what I expected.” Bishop lets out as he leans against the Ritual Stone that stood in the centre of the space.

    “Me neither…” she watches as a bone is blown off the mound knocking other bones and stones on its way. “They are, not at all as bad as I thought they’d be.” She turned to look at him. The scorch mark from the bolt evident on his armour, but he was otherwise fine. They each just huffed and shook their heads before turning to check the area for any loot.


    It was just after midday. They got quite a few soul gems and potions, and Diana got some books on conjuration from the Ritual Stone altar earlier. The two were walking at their usual pace in silence again. They could hear the rushing of the river nearby and feel a slight crisp in the air as the wind blew down from the snow covered mountain. In the distance the shapes of two towers on either side of the river appeared, a bridge connecting them.

    “That’s the Valtheim Towers” Bishop said uneasy.

    “They’re pretty,” she replied light-heartedly.

    Bishop swallowed and the muscles in his jaws clenched. As they got closer, he could make out figures patrolling the bridge. He got his bow out and held it to his side, his eyes narrowed and fixed on the towers.

    As they turned a corner right up to the closest tower, his neck twitched and in a swift sudden movement he had an arrow out and knocked, “I hear footsteps, keep close to me…” he said in a low warning tone.

    Diana had been oblivious to any threat all this time, rather admiring the flowers, scenery and wildlife. Turning at his words to see the ranger so tense and focused, she looked and saw the distinct colours of bandits on figure dotting the foot of the tower and the bridge.

    Bishop pulled the arrow back, took aim, and let go. A bandit guarding the door dropped down where he stood. His mate cried out to alert the others and ran towards the direction of the arrow. Bishop dropped him before he could even get a few feet.

    A thud at his feet caught the Ranger’s attention and he looked to see a rusty iron arrow sticking out of the ground. An archer on the roof had spotted him. He looked up and waited to see the archer’s hand lift signifying he shot before he ducked out of the way missing the arrow. He quickly laid aim and took out the archer before he could shoot again.

    He grinned at himself, impressed with his accuracy and speed, “I think it’s about time you and I have that little archery contest rematch, won’t ya say princess?” he turned to look at her, but she was not behind him as she was before. His eyes darted around looking for her black hair and dark leather and steel armour, but nothing. That’s when he heard it…

    He heard a fierce battle cry coming from the tower, a familiar voice. He looked up to see all the bandits on the bridge jump and turn to see a very fired-up Diana burst out towards them, an Orcish Warhammer lifted above her head.

    “By the nine woman, what the hell are you doing…!” He cursed to himself.

    “FUS!” her shout rang out, knocking two bandits right off and into the icey water below. She ploughed into the closest one with her Warhammer, using her own body as counterweight in her swing as to not be overpowered by the heavy weapon. Bishop sprang to action, knocking arrows and shooting as fast as he could. But everytime an arrow left his bow, he held his breath till it met a bandit’s body or missed. He could easily hit her as the bridge was narrow and their combat wild and close. Still, she was knocking them down and into the water faster than he could with his bow.

    Bishop sighed with relief when he noticed there was just one left, surely Diana could handle him, but not quite. He was larger than the others. Diana used her hammer to block some blows and was almost herself knocked down by a powerful swing with his Nordic battleaxe… wait a moment, Nordic… That’s when Bishop saw the bandit’s Nordic armour, this was the chief!

    Diana tripped over a bandit’s body as she backtracked with her hammer up in defence. “Diana!” Bishop cried out loud enough for her to hear. She was breathing heavily from exhaustion and fear, trying to scramble to back out of the massive bandit’s way. Her shots have done nothing to him through his armour. She turned to see the Ranger take aim and shoot.

    It missed. It hardly made a ‘tink’ sound as it nipped past the bandit’s armour. The man grunted and turned to the source, seeing Bishop below rush to line up another shot. “Hey, dickhead!” Bishop called to him, arrow knocked, “Was your mother a falmer or are you just that ugly?!” The bandit’s nostrils flared and his eyes grew huge and filled with rage as he huffed like an enraged bull. He could see Bishop’s teeth as he grinned broadly to add insult to injury.

    WACK! Diana’s hammer came down behind the big guy’s head, knocking him right off the bridge. She swung so quickly she wasn’t able to correct her weight, so as she hit the oaf she also had to let go of her newly found favourite weapon to keep from tumbling over the edge herself. She looked down to see the man hit the water with a splash! His body floated downstream surrounded by a bright red tint. Pity, she would’ve loved to loot that sweet armour.

    She turned to the Ranger who stood watching the same spectacle. She gave him a nod of appreciation, which he acknowledged. In the moment he wanted to shout and curse at her for that reckless stunt she just pulled, but she was her own person; a wild, free spirit that acted before she thought and never half-assed a fight, no – she full-assed every damn one of them. Crazy wench.


    You’d think a bandit joint like that would have more loot, but besides some food, mead, a few coins and 2 garnets, they didn’t walk away with much, which was quite disappointing as the loot was what fuelled Diana’s onslaught in the first place. If she knew this’d be it, she’d’ve just sneak past instead of in when Bishop took out the archer on the roof.

    “You left quite the bloodbath back there ladyship,” Bishop commented as they continued on the road.

    “Yeah, well, they deserved it. For being bad at their jobs.” She pouted back.

    “Bad at their jobs?”

    “Yes! You have to be a terrible bandit clan to have such a prime location, right on the road, with all the supplies, bells and whistles, and no loot!”

    “Being a successful bandit gang is more than just loot ladyship. It’s about power, position, location, influence, and access.” He said matter-of-factly.

    She cocked an eyebrow at the odd, handsome bloke walking next to her. “How do you know so much about bandits?”

    He met her stare and swallowed, “I got around.” He turned forward again and picked up the pace to walk ahead.

    Was Bishop a bandit after he left his family? Maybe, maybe its just her imagination running wild. Maybe he joined the dawnguard, maybe he was a vigilant of sterndarr – who cares. The man is skilled, (and very much so), reliable, well-travelled, and informed. That was enough. You know what wasn’t enough? The loot! She still couldn’t shake how pissed she was.


    It was nearly dusk and they were still a long way from Ivarstead. Bishop had suggested travelling round the mountain passed Helgen would be faster, but she nearly slapped him at that idea. She was going nowhere near that stupid town. Bishop had started to keep an eye out for a possible spot to camp when they saw the unmistakable arches of a Nordic ruin lead off the road.

    Diana stared at them oddly for a moment, then a lantern went on above her head. Her head propped up and her big eyes were full of mischief and wonder.

    “Oh Bishop?” she sang.

    “…yes?” he hesitantly answered.

    “You know what didn’t have loot? Those bandits. You know what ALWAYS has loot?” she pointed down the path of the arches, bouncing her eyebrows with a big grin.

    “Nooo…” she said slowly shaking his head at her with a frown.

    “Yeeesss…!” She nodded on the same slow note.

    “Noooo…!” his voice a little deeper, his face more stern.

    She paused for a moment. “Yeeeesss…” she turned up and started creeping up towards the ruin.

    “Ladyship! I am not a grave robber, and neither are you! Now come on,” he reached out for her arm but she started a silly gallop up to the entrance. She could practically already hear the coin jingling in her pocket.

    “What? I can’t hear you over all the gold I’m about to collect!” she sang back to him over her shoulder. “Besides, they’re dead! They don’t need it. Diana needs it! Diana’s going to go get it. Bishop is coming with Diana because he is a good companion. Diana will sleep with Bishop again tonight if he comes along.”

    “Diana! We just got paid for the bounties, we have more than enough coin we don’t need this!” his voice with command.

    “Speak for yourself! I’ll have enough money when I can swim in ale and bathe in spiced wine in the Blue Palace while being attended to by every cute stable boy and bard in Skyrim!” she replied as she skipped merrily to the doors.

    “Gods Diane, its just alcohol and sex with you isn’t it?” he actually looked ticked off.

    “Drink for the thirsty, food for the hungry!” she winked at him stopping in front of the door. He just groaned and rolled his eyes, pushing the door open.

    “Praise the nine! Someone came!” a young man ran and greeted them as they stepped in. The two just stood in place. This was turning out to be quite the day of unexpected findings.

    “Err… yeah! Praise the nine. We’re not grave robbers, we’re here to help you. Err, Dibella sent us!” she stumbled over her tongue as she tried to explain. Bishop shot her a look of pure ‘wtf?’.

    The young man made a strange face, but continued: “Whoever sent you, I’m grateful you’re here. My name is Golldir, this is my family’s crypt,” Diana and Bishop exchange quick glances, Diana’s says ‘whoops’, Bishop’s says ‘see why I didn’t want to do this?!’, “There’s a man, Val, who has been caught performing necromancy. Before they could apprehend him, he ran in here and is probably defiling my forefathers right now! My aunt Agna went after him, told me to stay here. But that was two days ago and I’m fearing the worst! I cannot take him alone, will you help me please?”

    Bishop and Diana just stood glancing at him. Both looking somewhat constipated, trying to think of an excuse to get away. Golldir saw their reluctance.

    “I can pay you! 750 gold if you can keep me alive and kill Val.” Wow, okay now he has their attention, but still there was a little hesitance there. He sighed. “And you can take anything you find on our way.”

    “You have yourself two bodyguards Golldir!” Diana stuck out her hand with a grin. This isn’t quite what he had in mind, but right now he’ll take what he can get. Bishop shrugged comically at Diana just offering them up as a package deal without consulting him. “My name’s Diana, and the big turd with eyeballs behind answers to Bishop.”

    “Oh thank you! Now let’s get going. I’ll show the way.” They all armed up and went in.


    Diana leapt infront of Golldir swinging her sword, taking a Draugr’s head clean off and lifting her shield just in time to block a blow from another. Bishop could hardly believe how she’d been using herself as a human shield to keep Golldir safe as they made their way through the crypts and passages that were positively crawling with Draugr.

    Two arrows flew into its head and its blue lights went dim as it tumbled to the ground. Diana turned to thank Bishop with a nod and relieved the undead of their gold and arrows.

    “The dead are rising, huh? Reminds me of you when you wake up on a bad day!” Bishop said with a slight chuckle.

    “No,” she strained and yanked out and arrow from the Draugr’s skull, “that’s just me when I wake up next to you. I’m actually quite the morning person!”

    “Pfft, whatever,” he took the arrows from her, “Have to be honest though, I’d much rather be fighting bandits than the undead, at least they stay dead.”

    “Wussy…”  she smirked and shook her head at him and continuing down the crypt.

    Bishop’s eye caught a chest in a damp, dark corner. He gave a sharp whistle to Diana and kneeled to loot it. She stepped back and peered over his shoulder.

    “Do you guys really have to do that in front of me?” a discouraged Golldir commented as he walked passed.

    Diana glanced at him but her head quickly jerked back, “Golldir wait!!” she cried out. He spun around and stepped back, lifting his foot off the pressure plate. Without a moment’s hesitation, she took two running steps and leapt to him, pinning him to the ground and shielding him with her body as tiny little darts zoomed and spat in all directions in sickly green smoke.

    “Diana!” Bishop ran to them, but she lifted her hand to him to stop where he is. When the darts finally stopped, Bishop rushed over and helped her up. Her back, arms and legs covered in the little pins. Golldir? Not a scratch.

    Bishop tossed Golldir his backpack, “look for a red vile with a white label that says ‘cure poison’!” he ordered in a rushed, commanding tone while he pulled the pins off her body as fast he could. Diana stood trying figure out what was going on as the poison threatened to overpower her.

    Golldir lifted the vile to Bishop who then gestured with his head to Diana. The man jumped to his feet, uncorked the bottle and practically tossed it down her somewhat unsuspecting throat. She chocked and Bishop shook his head at the idiot man, but it worked. Her mind became clear and her blurred vision improved.

    “Damn, why the ancient nords gotta be such dicks!” she finally said, “No offence to your ancestors though.”

    “Well,” Bishop replied irritated plucking out the last pin from her calve, “they had this weird irrational fear that in the future some snarky, stupid, pigheaded, loud-mouthed little bitch with alcoholism and a sex-addiction would come and steal their shit!”

    Golldir’s eyes went wide as he froze. His eyes darted to Diana.

    “Pfft, whatever. You’re cute when you get all huffy.” She winked at him.

    Bishop pulled his head back and gave her a weird look. “Cute? What? Ladyship, I think the poison is clouding your judgment somewhat at the moment.”

    “Well then,” she unsheathed her sword and spun around a little unstable and trotted off, “this should be a lot more interesting than usual. Does anyone else smell eggs and toast?” Yeah, her braincells were a little fried.

    “Its this way Princess…” Bishop said with a sigh, grabbing her by her arm, turning her around and pushing her off in the opposite direction.

    “Oh! Thank you kindly good sir.” She tipped an imaginary hat to him. “I love what you’ve done with the place…” she walked down admiring the bodies sticking out of holes in the walls.


    She charged sword first into every room and Draugr they came across, without even remotely trying to use any stealth as they did before and usually did.

    “Princess, could you stop stomping around like a swamp boar? Your footsteps are echoing in every chamber and tunnel!” Bishop whispered sternly through his teeth.

    “Ah pfft… They’re just draugr. Got the attention span of a wooden spoon. Just stand still for a few seconds and they’ll already have forgotten. But then again, this place reeks of death and old man fart. I can think of a few places better than this – your bedroll for instance!” she leaned on the hilt of her sword and bounced her eyebrows at Bishop with a cheeky grin.

    “Yeah, your definitely still high off the poison princess…” he shook his head and moved passed her. “How bout I lead for a while. You stay back and try not to die.”

    “Hey, since when are you the boss of me?!” She shot up straight, the two men turned to look at her, “Tell you what, hands up, who here is the dragonborn, hmm?” her hand shot up. She looked at her own hand, then at Bishop’s unimpressed face and folded arms and Goldirr bugeyed expression. “Now, who here is a whiney little man bitch who takes everything waay to seriously and needs to remove the giant’s club from his ass and loosen the fuck up?” her eyes shot to Bishop who stood motionless. Golldir’s eyes followed hers to him. “Psst, Ranger, this is the part where you raise your hand,” she loudly whispered.

    He just dropped his head into his palm and shook his head. She laughed, smacked him on the shoulder and continued down the corridor.

    “Is she really the dragonborn?” Golldir leaned to Bishop.

    “I’m afraid so. There goes the saviour of Skyrim,” he gestured to the tall, clumsy dark-headed woman merrily singing to herself and doing a little dance as she strolled down drunk as a pirate, “We’re doomed.”


    They came across Golldir’s aunt’s body in a large room. Val had barred the door and they had to take another route to the main and final chamber where he was held up. He was distraught but determined to avenge her. They followed it till they got to a dead-end, a room with just tombs and odd symbols on the pillars that separated the sections, each with an animal emblem.

    “I remember this, Aunt Agna told me ‘the bear will show the way’.” Golldir said.

    Bishop looked around till he spotted the emblem with a bear. Upon inspecting he found a pullchain at the back and pulled, revealing a secret passage.

    “Wow…” Diana scoffed sarcastically. “No offence, but couldn’t she just tell you ‘hey look for the pullchain behind the bear symbol!’? Why gotta be so cryptic? Rest in peace Aunt Agna though.” She bowed her head for a little personal moment of silence.

    Bishop shot her a look of disapproval, but Golldir just chuckled. He knew she couldn’t be held accountable for her words right now. And he had actually made peace with the idea that she was dead two days prior when she didn’t return.

    They sneaked up to the end and reached a large door that undoubtedly lead to the final chamber. They readied their weapons. Bishop pulled out a small vial of hazey red liquid and anointed his blade with some. It looked like a fire-enchantment but also like a poison.

    “If there’s one thing I know, it’s the undead burn like tinder. I say we use that to our advantage.” He said to his onlookers before placing the vile back.

    “Really?” Diana said with genuine amazement, “Well why didn’t you say so!” She stepped back, closed her eyes and strained. Before their eyes an aura of flames burst out of her, covering her. “VICTORY OR SOVNGARDE!” She cried as she burst through the doors with a battle cry, sword swinging, aura blazing. Bishop grunted and set off after her, cursing to himself, something about stuffing someone into a sarcophagus, strangling with linen wraps, and Draugr bait.


    “I can’t thank you enough.” Golldir’s earnest eyes showed he meant it as he handed over a coin purse to Bishop back at the entrance to the ruin. The last fight had been a harrowing one. Val was very skilled in magic and Diana made herself an obvious target with her looking like a ball of fire. Bishop peered into the purse, and decided it looked like the right amount. He shook the young Nord’s hand and turned nodded.

    “Glad we could help. And I’m sorry, about your aunt. And I’m sorry for all your family members, living and deceased, that she offended and desecrated on the job.” Bishop replied and nudged his head in Diana’s direction.

    Golldir smiled kindly and dipped his head. He let go of the Ranger’s hand, and turned to go back into the crypt. Bishop turned to his esteemed companion who sat on a log with her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees. Ice shards still stuck out of her armour and her short hair stood wildly pointed left where a bolt of ice struck her face. The effect of the poison was also wearing off, meaning she had a mean hangover.

    He swaggered over to her and bent down with his hands on his knees, “Rough night?” he asked smug.

    “Bish-shop…” she lifted a finger to him, keeping her head down. “I’m not in the mood, for your…” she just gestured over his face.

    He let out a throaty chuckled. “Princess, do you trust me?”

    She frowned profusely, and slowly shook her head, “Gods no…”

    “Good. Now close your eyes and open your mouth.” He rummaged through his backpack and retrieved something, her blurry eyes couldn’t make out what it was in the bright light of the rising sun. “Come on, be a good girl and do as I ask.”

    She gave him a suspicious, narrow-eyed glare, before reluctantly closing her heavy eyes and opening her mouth. He pulled out a vile and lifted her chin with his finger before pouring its contents into her waiting mouth. He gently tipped her jaw to close her mouth, as his eye caught a stray drop left on her bottom lip from the bottle’s neck. He wiped it off with his thumb before he realised what he was doing. His thumb lingered on her soft, warm lip. For the first time his thoughts went back to that afternoon where she almost bled out from the forsworn ambush. He recalled how her lips felt against his. Suddenly his chest grew tight. He quickly pulled his hand away and gave her a playful smack on the cheek.

    Her eyes fluttered open. Even in her state she could feel the tension between them in that moment she felt his finger on her lip. She swallowed and it almost immediately soothed her. “Wow that stuff is amazing. I feel a lot better.”

    “Good. Now I’m taking you to the nearest temple so you can repent for all the disrespecting and offending and insulting you did back there.”

    She rubbed her head as she stood to her feet, flinching as the early sun’s rays hit her face. “That bad was it?” She could hardly remember a thing.

    “Oh yes.” He nodded with emphasis.

    “Damn it, not again…”

    “Yeah,wh- … what do you mean again?”


    • This reply was modified 2 years, 6 months ago by  DovaBunny.
    Post count: 10

    *dries tears… lmao ones! Laughed so hard that stomach hurt… this is priceless. Keep it up DovaB ;D  absolutely l<3v it 😀

    …aaannd found this while looking through pics and thought about the “Flying Falmer Fart!” my newest fav quote… enjoy

    Minon Funny... FFF ;D

    Post count: 75

    BONJOUR!! DovaBuns here with a new Chapter! Enjoy and lemme know what you think! Note that this is the last one where not much happens story wise but is crucial to whats coming next.

    Warning: NSFW scene at the start! (the current time).


    CHAPTER  7


    She didn’t exactly expect Uncommon Taste, but the Frozen Hearth really didn’t even make an effort. Breakfast was a bowl of snowberries picked off a bush next to the porch and stale bread. It was better than nothing, and the spiced wine did help.

    Diana sat at a table mindlessly tossing the berries into her mouth as Bishop waited for the Dagur, the Innkeeper, to stoke the fire and get back to the counter so he can pay for their stay. Next stop: Solitude! Diana just hoped Delphine knew what she was doing. An irritable look washed over her face at the thought of that creepy woman, always going on-and-on about the blades, and the dragonblood, and alduin, and how the Dragonborn will save them, and blah-die-blah-die-puke. She was brought out of it when the warm glow of a fire hit her cheek, Dagur had finally got it going.  The man trotted back to the counter to a patient Bishop.

    She sat and admired the Ranger as he handled their business. Her eyes scoured his figure, from his thick, wild, dark brown hair with stray strands of copper, his broad, strong shoulders… his toned and muscular back, his steady hips, strong sturdy legs, and that perfectly butt. She did like his butt! She let out a long dreamy sigh. Last night still fresh in her memory and on her skin. It was like he was not himself, he was…his true self.

    Their sex was usually just that – sex, but last night it actually felt like he was making love to her. It may have started out in a place of irritability and frustration over their fight and the silly Darren feller, maybe even jealousy, but when she turned into his arms, one hand around his waist and another cradling his head as she tenderly kissed the hot skin on his neck, it was like he melted. Like a wherewolf who had transitioned back into a man and regained consciousness.

    He held her close to him as he carried her to the bed, her legs wrapped around his waist, and laid her down gently. He took her hand and wove his fingers through hers as he slowly entered her, his whole upper body close enough over hers to feel the heat of his skin and hear his heart race.  Instead of their usual wham-bam-thank-you-mam style of distant but quick and effective boot-knocking, he moved slower, more tenderly and gently like he was taking in every moment and sensation, and not just racing to the finish line.

    With each thrust his warm, hard manhood filled her and gently rocked her body as she bit her lip to keep from moaning as the walls (and floors) were paper thin. He rested on his elbows over her as his lips caressed her neck and shoulder. Where usually he’d have the same stern, focused frown during, maybe a naughty smirk here or there, last night she opened her eyes to see the Ranger’s face in a delicate balance between ecstasy and on the verge of losing control, flinching and straining as their bodies moved together. His whole body moved with smooth sensual determination as she could feel every fibre in her being wanting him more and more.

    His large, strong hands wrapped around her neck and made their decent over her collarbone, her chest, her firm breasts where they took a moment before moving on down over her toned stomach to her rise of her hips from her waist. They roamed over her like he was trying to memorize her skin. He held her steady at the waist and picked up his pace, going rhythmically faster and deeper as she arched her back and grabbed fistfuls of bedding…

    “Oh Diana…” she could hear his voice now still. She groaned softly as an involuntary smile spread over her face.

    “Diana, Diana?” the voice came more clearly, “Diana!” a pair of fingers snapped before her face and snapped her back into the real world. She turned to a very confused Bishop standing next to her, backpack on and ready to go. “Where the hell were you just now princess?” he seemed genuinely interested in what stole her away like that.

    A flush of crimson spread from her neck to her cheeks as she desperately looked for the words, “I err, I was just, uhm…” she cleared her throat and got up straightening her armour, “I was just thinking of our mission.” He narrowed his eyes at her with a strange, knowing smile. He had never seen her blush in the two years they’d been travelling together.


    “WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU!?” Diana shouted as the dragon swooped down and barfed frost over them. Bishop’s Nord blood gave him some frost and cold resistance, but her being half Imperial, she felt every bit of those icy shards, cold as Ulfric’s balls. “Go for the wings!” she shouted to the ranger who fired off arrows at a speed she’d never seen before, ripping into the creature’s wings.

    She fired off firebolts while darting between various rocks and trees, only popping up to toss a ball of fire before ducking back down. The Dragon was probably playing the most fun game of ‘whack a Nord’ he’s ever played. One of Bishop’s arrows struck the flap of its wing the same time her firebolt did. It came crashing down, hitting the earth in an explosion of dust that shook the ground. On the ground, it quickly got onto its feet it cried out in bloodcurdling rage before releasing a mini-ice age of frost breath on them.

    “No please Mister Dragon, tell us how you really feel! You flying piece of scaly shit.” Diana barked.

    Once his breath died down, she jumped out from her hiding spot and ran towards it at full speed. She swung at his snout, and the gash made him pull his head back – which is what she wanted. She grabbed hold of one of the horns obove his eye and with the momentum of the yank shot herself up onto his head.

    “What the fuck is she doing?!” It’s a question Bishop often asked himself. Say what you will about her, she was unpredictable, fiery, and stupid as Troll turd.

    “You know what I’m gonna do with you?” she held on as he wildly thrashed trying to get her off, “I’m gonna make myself some nice new shoes out of you!” He jerked up, tossing her into the air a little, but giving her the chance to drive her sword into his scull on her way down. The beast cried out, she held on. “Then, I’m gonna find your mom, turn her into a fucking handbag!” She twisted and yanked the sword out before going down again hard, “Next, I’ll find your boyfriend, seduce him, have him take me out for a romantic night flying over the tundra on a full twin moon, show him a good time, almost kiss, then never call him again!” With that she used all her force to knock her sword sideways as it bore into his skull.

    The creature cried out absolute rage and angst, throwing her off his head with such force that she screeched for a good few paces before slamming into a tree. She recalibrated and touched her aching head. She opened her eyes to see her hand full of blood. Shit. “Bishop! Little help here?”

    “Princess, catch!” she lifted her head just in time to see Bishop throw a whole fucking wheel of cheese her way. It smacked her right in the chest, almost winding her.

    “What the shit Bishop! Give me a healing potion!” she hissed at him, the dragon still squirming and thrashing just a few feet away.

    “Hells no! I only have two left. Now eat the cheese you stupid crazy wench.”

    She glared at him as she stuffed crumbly handfuls of cheese into her face hole. Boy was he a dick! He just chuckled at her and pulled back on his bow aiming at the flailing dragon.

    He steadied himself, exhaled, and the world around him went quiet him. He waited for the right moment for the Dragon to fling its head back up and open its jaw, then he let go. The arrow flew right into the Dragon’s mouth hitting his palate right into his brain. The giant beast screeched and collapsed. It was over.

    He walked up and stood at the slain monster, Diana rocking up next to him, cheeks still stuffed like a chipmunk’s, wiping the last cheesy crumbs off her mouth with her sleeve. “So, go on then,” Bishop gestured to the dead beast for her, “Eat its soul or whatever. Do your Dragonborn shit.”

    She turned to face him, eyes squinting in a glare, “Very well,” she took a step back, facing Bishop, “Behold… the power… of the DRAGONBORN!” she raised her arms and thundered out the last bit.

    Then she waited. Why was she not absorbing his soul? Was he broken? Did he not have a soul?  She peered awkwardly at Bishop, arms still up in power-pose, he did NOT look impressed standing there with dead eyes and arms crossed. “What the-”, she turned to look at the dead dragon, kicking its snout, “I’ve only done this once before, but I could’ve sworn this is how it wor-” her words cut off as golden rays and blinding ribbons of light suddenly burst out and envelop her with force. She stumbles but quickly regains her balance and spins around back to the Ranger, “BeholdthepoweroftheD-R-A-G-O-N-B-O-R-N!”

    His eyes went wide as he took a step back. He had heard she could absorb a Dragon’s soul, but never expected this. She may be a wildly inappropriate, dysfunctional, crazy woman, but there was no denying her power and that she was the Dragonborn. He had gotten so used to his deranged companion that he never stopped to realise… he was travelling with the Dragonborn. He was witnessing history and legend being made, and he had a front row seat as her companion. She was destined to be the saviour of Skyrim and slayer of dragons… He felt weirdly, honoured. Like she deserved better. He stared at the remains of the beast as the last golden flakes lifted off its dry bones, a little lost in what he just witnessed.

    “Yo! Princess Bishop!” she called. He turned to see a wide-eyed grinning Diana, shirt pulled up revealing her bra. “HAH! Made you look!” She laughed at herself for her little victory, lifted one hand and high-fived herself with the other. Bishop immediately regretted thinking she deserves better than him. “THAT’S for the throwing me with a fucking cheese wheel! Asshole.”

    “Reeal classy ladyship… You sure you aren’t a Paladin?” he said dryly as they turned to see what could be looted from the dead dragon.

    “Well, you see, I was…but then I let you into my bed, breaking my vows of celibacy. I just couldn’t resist you, couldn’t help myself in your arms! My shameful lust for your body overcame me and I gave into my human desires…” she said oddly poetically.

    Bishop raised an eyebrow to her. He knows she was just spewing bullshit, but he oddly felt a little pleased. An involuntary smile washed over his stern features. “Not my fault I have that effect on the ladies… weird that it worked on you though, seeing as though you are in fact not a lady.” She playfully punched him in the arm for that with a goofy smile.


    They’d been walking all day. Diana had on various accounts tried every type of bribe she could think of to get Bishop to carry her, no luck yet. The sun had started to set when they saw the thatched roof of Vilemyr Inn.

    “SWEET BABY MARA PRAISE THE SUN! Diana cried out in thankfulness when they spotted the town in the distance.

    She glanced back at Bishop. He stood with his arms at his sides, his broad shoulders back with a smile of relief on his face. “Told you that shortcut would pay off. You just gotta learn to TRUST me princess,” he smiled at her with wink.

    Her chest made a quick flutter sensation at the wink. She ignored it. “Suuure! Trust the guy who’d rather keep his two healing potions to himself in case he needs it, and chucks a whole frickn cheese wheel at you mid-fight!”

    “Are you still pissed about that..? Wow, you women sure can hold a grudge.” He huffed as he walked on.

    “Like you know anything about women!” she taunted back, following him along.

    “I know a lot more than you think, ladyship.” His voice serious and not as playful as before. He bit is tongue.

    “Oh? Do tell?” she asked curiously, noting that that comment alluded to something real.

    He walked along, picking up his pace as he tried to think of something to say. He was thinking so hard in fact that he never saw the wolves come out of the trees.

    “Bishop look out!” her voice rang with panic as she drew her sword in a flash and darted towards them. Bishop turned at the moment one wolf jumped up, sinking its teeth into Bishop’s arm as he held it up to shield himself. The wolf’s claws dug into his chest and ripped at his armour. Another wolf went for his ankle, jerking his foot out from under him. Bishop didn’t even have the chance to pull out his dagger when he hit the floor, all three on top of him, a third going for his shoulder and neck.

    “FUS!” the wolves were pulled off him by an invincible push. His wounds were not looking good.

    Diana leaped over him, landing between him and the wolves. “You want a piece of him you’re gonna have to get through me!” she shouted in anger at the beasts who snarled and snapped back.

    Bishop froze for a moment, but was quickly brought back into ‘fight-or-flight’ by the blinding pain. He pulled his backpack to his lap, desperately looking for those healing potions. The one had completely broke under his weight when he full on his back, but other was fine. The seeping bite marks on his arm, shoulder, and ankle stung and ached as their powerful jaws had ripped through muscle and flesh. He quickly brought the vile to his mouth with both hands, taking it all in one gulp.

    He winced as he felt it take effect. He felt his strength return to him, and immediately grabbed his dagger from his waist and jumped to his feet battle-ready. That’s when he saw a heaving Diana stand over three dead wolves. She was still catching her breath when they heard a familiar roar behind them. They both turned with an expression of ‘you’ve GOT to be KIDDING ME!?’.

    A bear. A fucking bear. I mean of course? Why should he not join in on the fun. Already killed three wolves and a mothefukn’ dragon today – why not add ‘bear’ to the list!

    Bishop put away his dagger and pulled out his bow. He started pumping arrows at the oncoming creature. Diana let out a loud groan of frustration, “Skyrim just has NO fucking chill!” she yelled in rage.

    As she reached the beast, it lifted it huge paw to swing at her. She blocked it with her shield just in time, but her body felt his strength as it knocked her to a crouch. She was soooo over this! She just wanted a nice hot bath, a tasty warm meal, and some cute stable boy to harass, for just one night! Is that too much to ask!?

    Still in crouch from her shield-position, she swung her sword up through his jaw into his head. Bad idea. It got stuck before it could do any real damage but had managed to pin its mouth shut. She stepped back with only a shield, watching the bear shaking his head trying to get the sword off. Bishop fired two more arrows into its chest.

    “Just die already you overgrown skeever!” he shouted at the beast frustrated. She could tell he was over this too. “I will make a rug out of you before tonight!” He fired another arrow into its face. It stormed Diana again, claws out.

    She rarely heard Bishop trashtalk during a fight. She smiled, this was actually quite funny. The beast hop-ran-hopped to her, arrows sticking out, mouth stapled shut by her shortsword. “Yeah!” she added, “Then, just for fun, we’re going to have sex on your rug!”

    As she said that Bishop was just firing off another arrow but was so distracted by her comment that he accidently turned to herbefore letting go. The arrow flew right into her foot. “MOTHER F-!!!”

    “Ohhh shit…” he said to himself as she grabbed her foot and hopped, the bear fast approaching. He had no time, he dropped his bow and dashed to her. He grabbed her in his left arm pulling her behind his body as his right hand reached out to grab hold of the sword hilt sticking out beneath its head. With all his strength he held the bear in the air while his left hand quickly grabbed his dagger and plunged it into the creature’s neck, ripping it out to the side.

    The bear’s blood from his open neck sprayed over Bishop. After a twitch and some gurgling sounds, the great body went limp, dropping dead. It was over. The two stood there, their breathing heavy, coming back into reality. He turned to her.

    “Diana, before you say anything…” his voice low and controlled, his hands out trying to keep her calm.

    “YOU SHOT ME!” Her voice cracked as she yelled at him.

    “Ladyship, it was an accident… Now let me help you with that,” he gently kneeled and reached for her foot.

    “Oh HELL no! You’re not touching me, huh-uh.” She shook her head, her eyes red with anger. She pulled her foot up to grab it and hopped back from him. He really did feel bad, and wanted to help, but gods why did she have to be so stubborn!

    “You know what, fine! Hop to Ivarstead then! See if I care.” Bishop threw his hand up. He’s really not going to stand here and beg her! Screw that noise. He wiped the bear blood out of his face and turned to get his bow.

    She was pissed, but deep down she needed his help. But she was too proud to say it. “Then go! I was fine before you came, I’ll be fine when you’re gone!”



    She dropped down onto the ground to assess her options, trying hard not to show how much her foot hurt. He huffed and stomped off to the Inn, muttering curses under his breath. Something about target practice dummy, and bear food.

    She waited till he was far enough not to hear her cry out in pain as she broke off the end of the arrow to pull it through. It was getting dark, and she could hardly see. She had no potions or food left, and was not about to eat raw bear meat! She reached into her bag looking for something to wrap her foot with; it just needs to hold till the Inn. She pulled out the large shirt she slept in, sighed, and pulled out her dagger.


    Bishop’s conscience was nagging him. He left an injured woman alone in the woods with no healing potion. That she saved him from the wolves didn’t help too. He sighed and walked up to the bar.

    “What will it be?” Wilhelm the innkeeper asked cheerfully.

    “An ale. And two rooms please.” Bishop dropped his arms on the counter.

    “How’s ‘bout a bath? If you don’t mind me saying son, you kinda look like you just crawled out of a dead bear!” he asked with a friendly chuckle.

    “That’s cause I almost just did. And yeah, if you could get a bath ready in the room that’d be great. My companion should be here soon.”

    A woman across the room had heard the exchange. She held her head high, straightened her dress and made her way over to the Ranger with determination. Bishop took his mug and turned to face the door, keeping his eyes locked on the handle, waiting for Diana.

    “Hello there…” Bishop turned to see a beautiful red-headed Nord woman. Hey green eyes peered at him like she had a secret.

    “Hello.” He replied coldly, taking a sip of his ale and returning his gaze to the door.

    This didn’t seem to put her off. “Did I hear correctly, you killed a bear earlier?” her eyes wandered over his blood and dirt soaked armour with tears on his chest, shoulder, arm and boot. “And by the looks of it, it was quite the fight.”

    “One bear, three wolves, one dragon. Now if you don’t mind, I’m waiting for someone.”  His demeanour just as cold as before.

    The woman glanced at the door, then back at him. “Well then, I’ll just keep you company till they arrive. My name is Temba, I run the mill here in town, and let’s just say I have a thing for bear-hunters…” she gently lifts her hand to his chest and taps lightly. Her eyes seductive, she looked up into his amber-gold eyes. She had his attention.

    He noted the fine freckles that dotted her fine nose and cheeks, and the way her flaming red hair made her eyes shine like emeralds. She was beautiful. He tilted his head to the side, amused by the forward woman, when the door swung open.

    She was being helped in by an older Nord man with a long beard with a knot in it, leaning on his shoulder for support as she hopped. One foot bound in what looked like a shirt sleeve but was very bloody and muddy.

    “Here you are my dear, Vilemyr Inn.”

    “Thank you Klimmek! I really appreciate it…” her voice kind and sincere to the man.

    “Oh no worries lass, couldn’t leave you like that out there now could I?”

    She smiled and nodded as she moved her weight off him and leaned against a pillar, “I guess not. I’ll be sure to get those supplies to the Greybeards.”

    “Thank you, lass! Now get that looked after! Good bye” he waved her off and turned back out the door. She smiled and nodded.

    Her eyes shot across the room to see Bishop, leaning back on the counter, a mug in one hand and a woman to his right. She felt like someone had punched her in the chest. Yeah they were just companions, but this was just a little much! “Really Bishop?!” she yelled across the room. The whole Inn’s eyes turned to her.

    Bishop quickly turned to Wilhelm, “Barman, do you have any healing potions?”

    The man looked over his shoulder to see the limping Diana, and dropped down to search his counter. “All I have is two minor healing potions I’m afraid. But tell you what, I’ll whip up   mother’s famous venison stew for yous. A hearty meal will help patch yer lass up quickly.”

    “Good we’ll take it.” He quickly grabbed the bottles and the man set out with the stew.

    Bishop pushed Temba aside and walked to Diana with long quick strides, holding out his arm to her, “Here sit down and drink this,” handing her the bottles.

    “No!” Bishop paused, looking at the woman. He couldn’t tell if she wanted to cry or rip his head off. “No I will not sit down!”

    “Ladyship please lower your voice, you can yell at me later in the room.”

    “Oh I’m sorry! Is my yelling upsetting you? Well you know what upset me? That you left me injured and alone in the forest at night!” uncomfortable shuffles and murmurs came around the room. Bishop glanced around to judging eyes. “Then! I finally manage to get here after being saved by someone else, and you’re at the bar with some wench!”

    “Excuse me! I’m no wench!” Temba corrected her sternly, “And this is my town, I’ll watch what I say if I were you.” Her voice was threatening.

    “Listen here Ginger Spice,” Diana turned to Temba reluctantly, “I’m not here to judge what you do for a living. If you wanna sleep with this sack o’ dicks, be my guest! I don’t give a flying falmer fart where he sticks it, I’m done with him.”

    All eyes turned to Temba to see how she’d react. Bishop’s went to Diana. Did she just say she was done with him? This was it?

    “Is there a problem here?” A very large man in barbarian armour and long blond hair walked up to them, his fists balled, joining the fuming Temba.

    “No, no problem here. We’ll just go to our room now.” Bishop excused and reached out again to her, sensing the tension in the Inn. “Come now Diana I’m not kidding…” his voice low and commanding.

    She pulled away from his arm, “Don’t touch me.” She started to limp across to their room.

    “Good.” The man’s voice came after. “Next time, how bout you keep a muzzle on your nagging bitch, and we won’t have any trouble.”

    “WHAT did you just call me?!” Diana turned around too quickly in her anger and stumped her injured foot against a chair. She yelped out in pain, and instinctively yanked out her sword at it. This was seen as a threat to Temba and the man at her side, as to many other patrons who now stood up and exposed their weapons. Bloody Nords.

    “Diana, put away the sword…” Bishop said through his teeth, surveying the situation. Eight, including Temba and her ‘pimp’.

    Diana turned and saw them take a step towards her, the distinct sound of blades being unsheathed filled the room. She turned to face them, battle ready. “Not unless he apologizes!” The man sneered at that and pulled up his fists.

    “Diana, you gotto pick your fights! Let it go, please!”

    “Yeah well, I’m full of rage and I’m picking all of them!”

    Bishop panicked. He didn’t want this bloodshead, not here, not townsfolk, but he couldn’t reason with her. Without him and in her state they’d overpower her quickly and either lock her up or worse. He had to act fast.

    “Forgive me…” he said under his breath, then it went dark.


    She heard the sound of footsteps in snow. Then she became aware that she was oddly moving somehow. Slowly she opened her eyes to the blinding light. Once her sight adjusted, she made out two feet right above her head walking in snow. This didn’t make a lot of sense till she looked straight ahead and into a butt. She knew his butt.

    “Bishop?” her voice croaked.

    “Diana,” he replied blankly, stopping for a moment to look for a stop to put her down. He spotted a large rock out of the wind and sun and made his way over.

    As he put her down, her face hurt. She reached up and winced at her own touch to her jaw. She looked down and saw her foot still wrapped, but in a clean bandage. In fact, she had all clean clothes on under her armour.

    “What-?” she began, but she had too many questions.

    “Last night, I knocked you out.” Her eyes widened at his words, “It was that or bloodshed, Diana!” he sighed. “After you were out, I locked us in my room and sneaked out before sunrise.” His eyes avoiding hers. He hated that he had to punch her, and it had to be hard enough to knock her out in one shot. Especially after the arrow incident. He could still feel the light crack under his fist before she collapsed into his arms. It made him feel nauseous.

    “Here…” he handed her the two healing potions. “I couldn’t give it to you before in fear of you waking up.” She took the bottles and drank, completely dumbfounded by what had happened. He reached into his bag and retrieved some stew and bread the Innkeeper packed up for them.

    “And..” she gestured to her clothes and foot.”

    “I bandaged your foot and cleaned you up. Got to look your best to meet the Greybeards, ya know.” He tried a faint smile.

    “Is that what this is? You’re carrying me up the 7 000 steps?” The potion had done its job, her jaw was fine and her foot good as new. She got up to face the Ranger. “Bishop, after what happened yesterday, and now this, I-”

    “Don’t.” he cut her off. He took a deep breath. “Listen, ladyship. You were right. I should never have left you like that. I was stubborn, but you know what, so were you. Yes, last night I punched you so hard you were knocked out, but I did that to protect you.”

    She listened, her mouth still a little open. He continued: “Now I know last night you said that we were through, that you were done with me. And for what it’s worth, I think that’s a really stupid idea.”

    “Pfft, you’re a really stupid idea…” she mumbled to him.

    “I’m serious. Look I’ve never had a companion because I never met anyone I felt was worth it – till I met you.  You can’t deny we make an excellent team. I guess what I’m trying to say is…” he finally looked up into her gorgeous, deep, dark brown eyes, “I like being your companion, and I don’t want to go.”

    She stood contemplating his words. This had been the first time either of them had been remotely sincere and open about how they felt about the other. She didn’t want him to go. He made her feel invincible, and gave her the bravery and strength she needed, pushing her to follow up on her Dragonborn duties. Something she would never have done had he not literally carried her up the 7 000 steps.

    Bishop was becoming discouraged by her long silence. “Then don’t.” she finally said.

    A smile pulled into his cheek. “Then I won’t.”

    “Good.” She nodded, smiling back at him. “Now, on to more important matters…”

    “…?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

    “Did you undress and bathe me last night??”

    “Oh sorry princess, I don’t wash and tell.” He winked with a chuckle. She swallowed and looked concerned, which made it even funnier. “No I didn’t. Innkeeper’s wife did. I helped though, but his wife was very particular in protecting your ‘dignity’ as she called it when she heard we were not married.”

    “Oh good.” She let a breath out, “Cause you know if you did – that’ll mean that I win ‘made you look’ forever, right?”

    “Well, lucky for you, we still have many more rounds to decide the ultimate champion!”

    “Wow Ranger, looking a little too excited to see my boobs again there!” he just winked and sat down for lunch. She joined him, as they happily ate in silence, watching the world below.


    Truth was, Wilhelm didn’t have a wife. Bishop had washed her body and put on her clean clothes by himself in the dimly lit small room. He worked gently, as to not wake her or hurt foot or jaw. He had tried his absolute best not to look, it didn’t feel right. It would’ve been taking advantage of a vulnerable woman, and she was more than just another woman to him. He wanted her to trust him.

    • This reply was modified 2 years, 6 months ago by  DovaBunny.
    Post count: 8

    Sweet Baby Mara????? Lmaoooo

    Post count: 75

    So! After the RP party think we could all use a little cool down! Why not read some terrible fanfic with bad jokes? You know you want to!

    New chapter! *does Macarena*




    It was a crisp, beautiful morning in Winterhold. A fresh blanket of snow crunched under their feet as Bishop and Diana stepped out. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. A smile came over her face as her hair gently moved in the wind over her shoulders. She felt a gentle tug on her waist.

    “Coming Ladyship? Thalmor parties wait for no man!” He got on the horse Delphine had given Diana and held out his hand. It was a large black steed with a white mane and tale. Diana named him Talos, Bishop called him Joseph Stallion or the ‘NightMare’ when he was being difficult.

    “If I knew better I would think you’re just excited for all the free booze and food,” she cocked and eyebrow at him and took his hand getting up behind him.

    “What? There’s going to be booze and food?” Bishop said in a fake shocked tone, “Here I thought the Thalmor just feast on the remains of Talos Worshipers!”

    He flashed his teeth in a smile and they set off. Next stop, Solitude! Delphine better know what she’s doing…


    The dysfunctional duo stood before the great doors of High Hrothgar. They’d heard tales of the mythical institution, but it lacked in comparison to the real deal. They felt small, like children in over their heads, staring up at the great building.

    “So err… Good luck princess! If you need me, I’ll just be out here.” Bishop gave her a smack on the behind and turned to go down the steps.

    “Hold the courier…” she spun around in panic, “You’re not coming with me??”

    “Nope, this is all you ladyship. Besides, pretty sure they only let the Dragonborn and, apparently, people with long grey beards in there. I don’t want to get shouted off the mountain!” He found a spot near the stairs out of worst wind and started setting up camp. He knew he might actually freeze to death out here, but he was not going in there! He’d much rather spoon a draugr and kiss a skeever.

    “But I’ll ask real nicely! Tell them we’re a package deal? C’mon please Bishop, you can’t bring me all this way and then just dump me like yesterday’s cabbage soup?” she trotted after him, practically pleading.

    “Not that seeing you beg isn’t one of my favourite new things,” he said with a cheeky smirk watching the panicky Diana with hands clasped together and big puppy-dog eyes, “but this is your time to Dragonborn-up, put on your big girl panties, and own up to who you are.” He took her by the shoulders, turned her around and pointed back at the doors over her shoulder. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

    She paused for a moment. Damn, he was right. “Promise you won’t leave?” she asked earnestly.

    “Couldn’t pay me to.” He said with a genuine smile. Sensing her hesitation, he sighed and added: “Tell you what, after we’re done here, how ‘bout we skip town and I take you to Riften, buy you a mug of Black Briar Reserve?”

    Her eyes sparkled and her face lifted at the idea. “You got yourself a deal there, Ranger!” she chimed pointing at him. He winked back. She’d always wanted to see Riften, but her hunting kept her near Helgen and towards the Falkreath. “Now, if you’ll stop distracting me and holding me back, I need to go see an old bearded man about a dragon… or at least I hope they’re men…” she shudders at the idea of finding a bunch of bearded old spinsters, waved him off, and made her way up.

    He watched till she went in like a thief breaking into a house, before turning back to setting up camp. He took out all the coats and pelts he had and layered his bedroll with it, fashioning a small tent around it to keep the wind out. He crawled in, took off his boots and pulled out his journal with the letters. With a deep sigh he started writing.


    It had been two days, and Bishop was starting to worry. He had heard strange noises come from the building, but nothing more. The nights were so cold he couldn’t dare sleep in fear of not waking up, and any attempt at a fire was put out by the wind and snow, but during the days he kept his eyes locked on the door, waiting for that crazy tall dark-headed companion of his. That his armour was still torn and shredded didn’t help either. In his sleep-deprived state his mind started to play tricks on him.

    He started to think back to before that day in Riverwood, what it was like on his own. He remembered the way she looked in the last rays of the setting sun as she walked up to the Inn, and how refreshingly different she was to any woman (or man) he’d ever met. He recalled their archery match, the drinking, her shouting a bear out of hibernation, and the two of them sitting high in a tree till the sun came up. He thought back at how he felt watching her dance with Vilkas so close, how her lips felt when he saved her with the Forsworn ambush, that moment his thumb lingered on her bottom lip at the ruin, her breathing on his arm as she slept next to him… No, surely this isn’t happening, not to him. Travelling with her had given him a sense of purpose and direction he never knew he missed, and now going two days without seeing her – after seeing her all day everyday for months – he felt a little lost. He started to question if she was even real, if he had wandered up here on a fantasy in a delirious state. He didn’t ‘feel’ things for people, he used them and they used him – which is why he never trusted a person. Did he trust her? Did he trust that she would walk out those doors at any moment?


    The doors swung open as a very chirpy Diana trotted down the steps. “Oh Bishie-Poo! Where are you my dear?” She looked over to the pile of furs under a small leather canopy and saw it stir, “There you are! Oh gods I have so much to tell you!”

    He peered up at her, his cheeks and nose crimson from the cold. He mustered a smile at her cheerful disposition and in relief, “Morning Ladyship.” He pulled himself out and adjusted to the day. The relief was soon followed with a bitterness, “What the hell took so long? I nearly froze my ass off and I’m pretty sure the twin moons are never coming down!” he tugged at the leather around his crotch.

    “Daww you worried about me!” she teased playfully, reaching out to touch his cheek with her soft leather gloved hand. “Your so cute when you get all huffy!”

    He batted her hand away, “Whatever, can we just go please? I’d like to be thawed all the way before we get to Riften. Otherwise there’ll be an ale, a bowl of stew, a bed, and a wench with my name on and you’re paying.” He turned to pack up his make-shift shelter.

    She just snorted at him for being such a Danny-Downer and looked down over the valley below. “Fine, be a sour-skeever. I won’t tell you what happened, or show you the awesome new shouts I have. Pfft.” She made a little pouty face and waited for him so they could get going.

    Once he had everything up and on his back, reality had sunk back in and he was ready to get back on the road with her. Funny how in just a few months, she’d become an anchor to him. “This shout better fucking cure brain-rot and end the civil war for what I’ve had to sacrifice for it…” he pulled a fur collar of what looks like a red fox over his head and ears. She gave the collar a weird look, but shook it off as the two started the long decent.


    “Go on then…” he said with a raised eyebrow to her as the snow crunched under their boots. “Tell me. I can see you’re dying to.” She tried hard to come off as uninterested, but she was burning to tell him everything.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about Ranger…” she folded her arms and stuck her nose in the air.

    “Ladyship, you forget that I know you by now. You’re a good drinker, a mediocre warrior, and a terrible liar…” He gave her a playful shoulder bump, breaking her disinterested-act with a little smirk. “Now spill before I make you talk.”

    She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then gave in, “Allright, allright! If you wanna know so bad! SO! The greybeards – who actually really have long grey bears with knots in – they’re teaching me what Master Arngeir calls ‘the way of the voice’. So this is basically-”, her joyful voice rang in his ears and was much needed warmth in the cold. He listened to her babble, an involuntary smile spread across his face.


    “So then Akatosh gave the ghh-gift of the voice-” she continued as she pulled her blade out of a frost troll with a strain. Bishop was astonished by her ability to keep to her story no matter what.


    “And then, they taught me Whirlwind Sprint! Check it out! WULD!” she shouted and dashed ahead a few paces in a black, leather, and steel blurr. So then-” she continued.


    “So anyway, now we need to go to Ustengrav, somewhere near Morthal, and return this… err… I want to say, lute? No, drum? No… Horn? That’s it! The Horn of Gergins Windmaster. Or was it Jurgen Windcaller… Damnit, knew I shouldn’t have had that seventh mug of wine.”

    “Well, sounds at least like you’re glad you went,” Bishop said with a smug chuckled in his voice as they finally reached the bottom. She had chatted non-stop all the way down. His ears were burning and her mouth was dry.

    “I am,” she said proudly, a smile pulling into her left cheek. “Thanks, for pushing me to do this…” her voice turned sheepish as she awkwardly avoided eye-contact.

    He could think of 30 smug replies and teases to throw at her for finally thanking him for something, but none of them felt right in the moment. It was nice to be appreciated and to see her so happy.

    “Anytime,” he gave her a sincere, deep gaze with a warm smile. His amber-honey eyes pulled hers to his. They were softer usual. She couldn’t help but let out a closed lip grin, her lips and nose crimson in the cold. Their eyes met and held, it was one of those gazes that go deeper than the colour your eye; one of those that connect two people. He broke out of it, realising how quickly the moment turned almost deep. “And by ‘anytime’, I mean ‘anytime you need a swift kick in the ass to get you to own up to your shit’ – I’m your guy!” he said with a cocky sniff as he broke their matched pace and walked ahead.

    “Oh good!” she chimed in from the back. Of course she was going to add something. “And whenever you decide to have the frost staff removed from your ass – I’m your gal!”

    “Oh you’d love that won’t you…” Bishop turned back and said in a sultry, deep voice, reaching down to squeeze his butt. He knew she liked his butt. Her eyes immediately caught his hand. “HAH! Made you look!” She grunted and face-palmed as he mimicked her usual self-high five with a satisfied laugh.


    “Are we there yet?” Diana nagged, idly kicking a rock as she dragged her feet.

    Bishop sighed. She was testing his patients again. “No”

    “Will you carry me, pleeease?”


    “Can we stop for lunch?”

    “You just ate.”

    “That was like, three hours ago!”

    “That was not even half an hour ago.”

    “But Bishoooopp! I’m tired!”

    “Cry me a river.”

    “My feet hurt!”

    “Then walk on your hands.”

    “How far still?”

    “Just as far as I said 5minutes ago.”

    Diana was not impressed with that answer. Her eyes scouted the area, and saw a tall tree just ahead. Bishop had been taking the lead, he knew the Rift’s forest quite well and was alert, looking out for any spiders, bears, or wolves who are common in these parts, so they could avoid it if possible.

    “I’m gonna climb up that tree and see if I can spot the city from here!” without waiting for his reaction, she galloped to the tree, dropped her bag and weapons, and started climbing.

    “Ladyship, I don’t think that’s a good idea! This is an old tree, and-” she cut him off.

    “Oh live a little Ranger! Gods, always so boring!” Thanks to her hunting days, and having seven smaller siblings, she was quite good at climbing trees. Soon enough she reached high enough and the branches were too small to carry her weight up further.

    A gust of wind swayed the top of the tree, Bishop dropped his bag and immediately readied himself to catch her. She grabbed on and held, like she did when she jumped Farkas in the yard.

    The wind passed and she loosened her grip. “See, its fine!” she waved down at the uneasy Bishop dropping his hands to his waist. She shielded her eyes from the sun and peered into the distance. Just beyond the trees she could see a great lake with high wood walls and gates. That must be Riften on the bank! It wasn’t so far. Wow, the view from up there was gorgeous. She’d heard how beautiful the Rift was (it was no Falkreath lemme tell you that), but it was a sight!

    A gust of wind came again, catching her off guard with only one hand holding on. “Diana!!” Bishop cried out as he saw her tried to grab on in vain and slipped. She was heading down, face first.

    It was a big drop down, and hitting all the branches would break every bone in her body. Without thinking, she employed her newly improved force shout, “FUS RO!” straight down. It worked! The branches below her snapped or broke clearing her way down. It also knocked the unsuspecting Bishop who stood right below her to the ground flat on his back.

    His strong, big body softened her fall. HE however had just been smacked so hard onto the ground that he saw little dancing Orcs prance in a circle around his head. She slowly lifted her head as she realised she had gotten down without a scratch, looking up into his face strained with pain.

    “I told you not to climb up there you stupid wench!” he mustered out with difficulty.

    “Bishop, I’m so, so sorry!” her voice sincere with regret as she reached up to cup his face, “Are you okay?”

    Bishop put his hands on her waist to shove her off and opened his eyes, looking up right into hers. Her big, dark brown eyes like dark oak and melted chocolate, full of concern. He paused.

    He could feel the weight of her body as she lay on his, smell her scent like the Forest in the spring, and feel her heavy breath on his cheeks. Without thought, his one hand slowly slid up her back and the other down the small of her back, gently holding her in place.

    Diana froze when she too realised how intimate they were. Her heart began to race as his hands moved over her back and she became aware of his strong yet comfortable body under hers. She watched his dark, secretive eyes soften, and fall from her eyes to her lips, then to her neck as his hand moved up her back. Her hands moved down from his cheeks to his neck, her thumbs tenderly on his jaw.

    They had both actively avoided situations like this and kept their distance. But there was something growing between them, like a tension, that they had both try to deny. It had been growing stronger despite both having their guards up and both being too stubborn and immature to be drawn in by it. But now, in this moment, he was fighting the urge to lean in and kiss the scar on her neck. She could see it, feel it, sense it; and she wanted it. She wanted him.

    He brought his hand up touch her neck, to tilt her head gently so his lips could capture the delicate skin of her neck. Just as his hand came to hover above her, seeing his it made him snap out of it – like catching himself red-handed. He shook his head, coughed, and instead used his hand to shove her off him.

    “If you pull that shit again, I won’t be at the bottom!” he said bitterly as he got up and dusted himself off, putting a few feet between them. “I’m getting real tired of your shit Diana!” he grabbed his back and pulled himself up straight with a strain like he hurt it.

    “I’m – I’m real sorry Bishop.” She said under her breath as she got up off her back where he had tossed her over. Shamefaced she got her bag and things. “I saw Riften… not far still.” Her voice low and pained.

    He looked over at the usually tall and proud woman clutching her arm, head low, staring down as she waited patiently for him. He let out a sigh, “It’s okay princess. You just scared me is all.” She looked up to the change in his voice. “You can make it up to me at the Bee and Barb!”

    “Is that Riften’s inn?” her face lifted, a twinkle of excitement in her eye.

    “It’s where you’re going to cough up half of your coin tonight! I’m in the mood for red meat and enough ale to make the blacksmith look like a wench!”


    “No entrance unless you pay the toll!” the guard commanded as they stepped up to the great wood gates to the city. This place would be toast if a fire attacked with all this wood.

    Bishop pulled back his shoulders, buffing his chest, “You and I both know your game isn’t going to work here,” he said through his teeth, “So I suggest you let us in before Mavern hears of your little ‘side business’ of scamming travellers.” Showing his teeth, and holding his already large frame up to the guard made him look like an animal intimidating an opponent. It was a standoff between him and the guard. Another, smaller guards stood at the other end of the gate, but refused to get involved, instead hiding behind his spear.

    “Fine,” the guard backed down, stepping away from Bishop’s menacing glare, “But, keep it down.” The guard just looked away and stood aside. Maintaining his posture, Bishop looked over to her before opening the doors. Riften!

    The city was smellier than she expected. But the stories were true, the town had one of two people – stupid rich, or crazy poor and working for said stupid rich. The city had two layers, a top one for all the fancy people with beautiful houses, and the lower level built into the city’ foundation around the water that ran through the city and out towards the lake.

    It was already dark, but Bishop strolled through town with her, showing her around. She met the blacksmith working overtime on a fancy sword for a Mavern’s son and Bishop put in an order for his own new armour. She saw all the stalls in the market place, and familiarised herself with the shops, orphanage, and Mistveil Keep with starry eyes. She always wanted to travel around Skyrim, but being a lowly hunter who barely gets by, it was never an option – that changed. Having Bishop by her side also meant she survived the roads, and although he hadn’t seen it all either, he was much more travelled than she and had a great general knowledge. When she was satisfied, they headed for the Bee and Barb.

    “Keerava, baby!” Bishop announced to the barkeep as they entered.

    “Oh, it’s you again. What in blazes do you want this time?”

    “Oh come now, don’t be like that sweetness? You know you’re my favourite little lusty Argonian?” Bishop said seductively leaning over the counter to wink at her. If Argonians could blush, I’m sure she would’ve.

    Keerava pulled back from him, “By the nine Bishop, I’m not a wench! Gerda is in the bunkhouse. Besides, you know Talen-Jei and I are serious now.”

    “I thought I smelled something tall, dark, and ugly drag its ass into town!” They turn to see an Argonian man, smiling broad at Bishop. It was weird seeing him with people he knew, especially here. Wasn’t Riften known for its shady characters and thieves?

    “TJ!” Bishop reached out and shook the Argonian’s hand warmly, “Do you still have any of those speciality drinks? Cause I need 20!”

    “Woa there sabre cat!” the man laughed, “You drinking to remember or drinking to forget?”

    “Drinking to forget! That lovely mistress of yours just broke my heart again!” he turned back to Keerava behind the bar, “I can change baby! Just give me a chance! As I always say, scales-to-skin, always a win! So whaddaya say you dump this horny, pun-intended, bastard here and run off with me?”

    Keerava kept an unimpressed expression, grabbed a jug of cold water and chucked it at the Ranger’s face. Talen-Jei howled with laughter.

    Bishop wiped the water from his eyes to look at her again, a smug grin on his face, “Try as you might my love, you’ll never be able to put out this fire!” he put his hand on his heart.

    Keerava threw her hands up, giving up, “Just don’t burn my Inn down! I’ll go get your room ready,” she walked out from behind the counter and past the two giggling men, pausing at Diana. “Oh, but who’s this pretty thing? Bishop, I thought you-“

    “This is Diana!” Bishop cut her off, gesturing to Diana, “She’s my travelling companion, for the time being.”

    Diana felt a little hurt by him referring to her as just a temporary distraction, but she played along.

    “Hiya,” she stuck out her hand and greeted the two Argonians who stared rudely.

    “Well now, we only have one room available tonight on such short notice. I’ll go check with Helga at the bunkhouse if she has anything.”

    “Oh that won’t be necessary,” Diana chimed in, “we can just share, its cool.”

    Keevara looked at Bishop with narrow eyes, he opened his mouth but the words came a while after, “Yeah, we can just share. Besides I have my bedroll so I’ll just sleep on the floor.” Something was up with him, but she couldn’t quite place what. “Diana, why don’t you go grab us a table and I’ll be right there.”

    “Er, okay.” Why did she kinda feel like she was the fourth wheel? But she obeyed and strutted over to the open table in the opposite corner.

    Bishop kept his eyes on her till he was sure she was out of earshot. “Any letters for me?”

    “Yes! Now that you mentioned it.” Talen-Jei reached below the bar and pulled out a letter with a crude stamp. Keerava rolled her eyes at them and set off upstairs.

    “Thanks. I’ll leave one for you tomorrow morning when we check out.” Bishop said in a hushed voice, stuffing the letter deep into his bag before turning to watch his old friend prepare him and Diana one of his speciality drinks.


    Diana felt very out of place. Bishop came over, gave her a drink, and returned to catch up with his bud at the bar. Later Keerava came over and dropped a bowl of stew and bread in front of her, and turned to walk away without a word. Usually she loved inns, and had no issue making herself comfortable and mingling. But with the awkward exchange and knowing that Bishop knew people here, she hesitated. Her eyes scanned the room and caught that of man staring back.

    He was a tall, good-looking but rugged Nord with dark red hair.  He wore odd leather armour she’s only seen once on a shady feller in Falkreath before, the night before the Jarl’s Wizard’s staff was stolen. She was taken aback by his forward staring, but he didn’t seem to mind her noticing him noticing her. After he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he gave her a faint nod and disappeared out the door.

    That was weird. What batshit, hole-in-the-wall dumpster town did Bishop bring her too?

    Another female Argonian, this one in more workers-class clothes, and worked at the docks by the smell, approached her. “Evening new blood!” she greeted kindly, but Diana could immediately tell something was off.

    “Hi?” she awkwardly greeted as the woman came right up to her table, she kept glancing around though, like she was afraid to be spotted.

    “The name’s Wujeeta! Who’re you?” she asked, anxiously scratching her neck.

    “I’m Diana, I’m actually just passing through, I-” Wujeeta cut her off.

    “Hahahahaha! Yeah, funny story. Now listen, do you perhaps have any ‘cure disease’ potions with you?”

    Diana blinked. Yeah, this woman had more than a few bolts missing. Seemed like Sanguine had played ping-pong with her sanity. “…I might.”

    “Lovely! Give them to me.”


    “Yes! Give them to me!”


    “Urgh! Fine… If you give it to me, I’ll give you this very special, limited edition bottle of Black Briar Reserve! It was their best batch and this is the last one.” Wujeeta produced a beautiful bottle with the Black Briar logo. She’d only seen the stuff on counters, never been able to afford it for just drinking. It was worth waaaay more than the silly potion.

    “Deal!” Diana plucked the potion from her bag and made the exchange. Wujeeta gave a sinister chuckle before picking at her skin and scurrying off.

    Seriously, what the hell is this town?

    Looking at the gorgeous hand-painted label on the dark, blue bottle, she decided to drink it on her own and not in this uncomfortable joint. She picked up her stuff and headed out the door.

    “Hey Bishop, wasn’t that your lass leaving? Keerava asked Bishop, interrupting his conversation with Talen-Jei. Bishop saw the closing door, and looked over to see her table empty. He sighed and excused himself.

    “Go, I’ll put your stuff in your room. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” Talen-Jei said with a nod to the door. Bishop thanked them and set off after her.


    She sat on a bench overlooking the marketplace. Here and there were people trickling back to their houses from the Inn, Bunkhouse, or friend’s houses. She watched the people, the guards shuffle by, listening to the water below. She sighed and opened her bottle.

    “Drinking alone?” a voice came. She turned to see Bishop, hands behind his back, mischievous smile on his face. She lowered the bottle from her lips.

    “Yeah well, at least out here I don’t feel so alone.”

    Bishop realised he had been neglecting her, dumping her in a placed she didn’t know to hang out with friends. Dick move. But he wasn’t about to apologise, wasn’t that much of a dick move! He leaned against the railing next to her bench, a few feet apart. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

    “Sure is,” she answered. They sat there in silence for a while, watching the people and listening to the night. “So I’ve heard Riften is the headquarters of the thieves guild, should I be worried?”

    Bishop laughed, “Oh gods no! A few years ago, maybe. But they’ve completely lost their mojo. Now, they’re no more than a bunch of lowly pickpockets who live in the sewers.”

    “Surely they can’t be that bad? They’re infamous and known throughout Skyrim.”

    “You wanna bet?”

    She takes a big swig from the bottle, “Always!”

    “Okay, I bet you I can rob a thief here in Riften.”

    “Hah! No way.”

    “Yes way! If I win, I get to pick our next destination – which will be Ustengrav. If you win…”

    “I get to pick our new destination! Which will be Markarth.”


    “Yeah. Overheard some fancy-pants old man yelling at his son in the Inn, he mentioned the city has a forsworn problem and the Jarl is putting a high price on the head of any forsworn you kill!”

    Bishop contemplated this. They did miss out on the bounties in Ivarstead due to what they will now just refer to as the ‘arrow to the foot’ incident. He was hoping to work here in the Rift for some coin before moving on to find the horn. He felt Reach was too dangerous to be adventuring in, but then again, she was the Dragonborn. If there’s one woman who can defend herself, it’s her.

    “Fine, deal!” they shook on it. “Now just to find a thief…”

    They scoured the area, and sure enough their eyes caught a body in the shadows. A hand quickly darted out at a couple passing by, pulling something that glistened in the moonlight back. The couple continued without noticing. “Show time!” Bishop said under his breath. Diana took another big gulp, setting off a few steps behind him.

    “Give it up punk, the valuables or your li… Raven??”

    The thief turns around, hands up to feel the knife, revealing a beautiful young woman with black hair, blue eyes, and red lips. “…Bishop?!”

    “Diana!” a voice came behind them. They turn to see Diana in the shadows. “I just wanna be part of this too…” her voice falls as she reluctantly crawls back to watch from her bench.

    Bishop turned back to the thief, “What the hell are you doing here?” his knife still out to her.

    She drops her hands to her hips, “I’m trying to make a living, what does it look like I’m doing?”

    “By stealing? Really Raven?”

    “You’re one to talk, Bishop!” she points at the blade out to her annoyed.

    “Oh this?” he looked at the blade in his hands, flipped it through his fingers and grabbed it again, “This is a bet.”

    “Really? A bet? You expect me to believe that?” she said unconvinced, folding her arms.

    “I bet Diana over there” he gestures with his head to the tall woman slouched on the bench drinking out the bottle with both hands, “that I could rob a thief. Now, if you could just do me a solid and hand over that necklace you stole?”

    “Hells to the no! This is a golden diamond necklace with emeralds, I’ve eyed it for weeks! And as far as your bet is concerned, check my front pocket…”

    He reached out and felt around in the little pouch sewed onto the front of her thieves’ armour. “There’s nothing in here?”

    “Oh, I ran out of fucks? Cause you know, that’s where I keep them! So sorry, but I can’t give a fuck about your stupid little games with your new girlfriend! Now, move,” she tried to push past Bishop, her hood falling off to reveal long, shiny midnight black hair that glistened like a river in the moonlight. He held his blade to her neck and slammed her body against the wall.

    “I don’t like losing, Raven… So if you can’t give me that necklace you better give me something else and quick.” His voice calm but threatening. Whatever the two had, it didn’t seem like there was much mutual admiration left.

    “Fine!” she gritted through her teeth, “You wanna know what you can tell her you stole? My time, and my dignity…” with that Raven grabs him by the neck, her lips meeting his. He drops his blade hand down as his eyes fall shut. She kisses him with intent, pushing herself off the wall making the Ranger take two steps back as her body moves against his.

    Finally, she releases his lips to catch her breath, a naughty smile crosses her face, “Just like ol times, huh?” She steps back revealing his coin purse in her hand. Bishop checks his armour where he kept it, then shoots daggers at her with his eyes. He lunges for her but she jumps over the railing into the undercity and disappears through a tunnel leading into the ratways. There was no way he could catch her now, and even if he did, he’d have the whole thieves guild up his ass.

    Frustrated, enraged, he kicks the support beam of the railing so hard it cracks. “SON of a MOTHER….!! Urghhhhh!!” he grabbed his foot. Pretty sure he just broke his toes. He drops down on a barrel hanging his head.

    “Wow… *hick*” Diana’s voice came as she waddled over, empty bottle in hand, “That was embarrassing for you!”

    “Diana, could you not… just… please?”

    “No! I could and I’m going to! *hick* I need to talk to you about something.”

    Bishop looks up at the incredibly intoxicated Diana. How potent was that stuff?

    “I don’t like other women kishingg you! When I saw that…that… *hick* steal-yo-shit slut kiss you just now, I was soooo angry! I wannet to punch her right in the tits!” she pointed angrily at him. “You- *hick* you should… We should come to an arrangement, you and I.”

    Bishop still stared blankly.

    “Okhay, okhay, lemme tellit to ya like dis, see… I’m a hot blooded woman, I like…what ya got goin on hurr,” she gestured over his body. “And I know, I know you thfink I’m one of those gurls that don’t know they’re hot…But jokes on you! I know I’m pretty *hick* pretty average. But I got great boobs! I mean, look!” she looked down at her own boobs in amusement.

    “Diana…?” his voice low and controlled, with a hint of concern. “What was in that bottle?”

    “Shh, shhh Bishicakes, I’m tryna tell you something.” She paused for a moment staring blankly into the distance. “Oh yeah,” ok she’s back, “I propose… to you…” Bishop’s eyes went wide, “No, not like ‘propose’ to you like…” she gestures going on one knee and handing him the bottle. He grabs the bottle anyway, “I mean like, I think, you and I, should help eachother out! You’re jush a man, Imma woman…. I think… I find you HAWT, you find me… tolerable. Whaddaya say? You know the Rift’s forestsh, escort me somewhere we can be alone with no distractions… and no clothes… *hick* and no distractions…”

    Bishop stared up at the woman. It wasn’t that he didn’t find her offer very appealing, but she was never this drunk – or honest! – after just one bottle. He gave the bottle a sniff and pulled back in disdain.

    “Diana, where did you get this?” he asked sternly as he rose to his feet, one hand on her shoulder.

    “From some Argonian, Weewuu or sumim’, I dunno. Sooo is that a yes?”

    “Ladyship,” he chucked the bottle into an empty barrel, placing both hands on her shoulders to steady her, “That wasn’t Black Briar Reserve…”

    “It wasn’t?” she looked up to him, genuinely surprised. “Cause here I was thinking, hey! Black Briar Reserve turns me into a bit of a perv…”

    “No,” a smile started to creep up, “Ladyship, that was skooma. Skooma and from what I can tell by the smell, very little wine.”

    She narrows her eyes at him, tilting her head a little.

    “And you finished the whole thing” he chuckles a little, “You’re incredibly high right now, princess.”

    She looked back down, the wheels in her head spinning. “So…. Is that a no?”

    Bishop laughed and turned to pick her up, one arm around her back and the other under her legs. “That’s a we-need-to-get-you-to-bed-before-you-hurt-yourself!”

    “Wai- You’re taking me to bed?!” her face lit up with childlike excitement. He laughed so hard he nearly dropped her, a deep throaty laugh.

    “No my dear, not tonight. We need to find you a cure disease, and I’m thinking cure poison potion, and you need to sleep! Otherwise no Markarth for you!”

    “We’re going to Markarth? Why? I don wanna go to Markarth… I hear their beds are made of stone… I don wan us to have sex on a stone bed? I wan us to have sex on a bed of deathbells and bear pelts!” she seemed confused, but happy in her own little world as he carried her back to in the Inn.

    “Well, lucky for you neither of those is happening…” he said with a warm smile.

    “Waddya mean?” she peered at him.

    “I mean, you don’t have to sleep on a stone bed, and we won’t be having sex. So you have nothing to worry about.”

    “But Bishoooooopppp!!” she threw her head back and kicked like a kid throwing a tantrum.

    He carried her up the stairs and to their room. She sported the biggest pout. He carefully put her down on the bed and turned to find the potion in his bag.

    “You don’t wanna be cold tonight do you Bishi-Fishie? She winked and tapped the bed next to her.

    He chuckled and shook his head, handing her the potion as he sat down on the chair next to the bed. “Drink this, it’ll clear your head.”

    She took the vile, but just before she drank, she looked up at him, “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me, Bishop?”

    He was taken aback by this direct, seemingly sober request in her state. He swallowed hard and met her gaze. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lie right to her face like that, he did want her. He’d denied himself those thoughts, but he knew they were there. Maybe if he was as high as she was he’d have the balls to say it out loud too.

    He reached out and lifted the vile to her mouth. She drank it all and handed it back to him. “Fine, don tell me. I see the way you shteel glances at me. I don need to hear you say it. *hick* But we can continue this conservation tomorrow… Now, I need to go see a man about a horn.” With that she turned and dropped her head on the pillow.

    Bishop was still sitting here when her snores came. He pulled the covers over her and turned to set up his bedroll on the floor, preferring to keep his mind blank than to risk overthinking. He attended to the letter he got, and wrote a reply before putting it all back in his bag and getting his sleeping clothes. He got undressed by the candle light. Once all his clothes were off, he sighed, and looked over to the very ungracefully snoring Diana spread across the bed. He gave the train-wreck of a woman a faint smile and got ready for bed.

    Tomorrow, they hit the market, and then – Markarth.

    Post count: 8

    Ok, these letter have gotten my curiosity up…hmmm

    Post count: 28

    Finally caught up and I’m lovin’ it so far. 🙂 Can’t wait for the next chapter!

    Post count: 75

    Aw thanks Bri! Stayed up till 2am writing the next chapter last night cause it’s so fun to write it! Should be out in the next day or so.

    And Kathy – Ha glad you picked up on it! All will be revealed soon… *kicks smoke machine and disappears in a cloud of smoke*

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